


You're A Miracle.

by glimpseofbliss



Series: Glimpse of Bliss, A Little Taste of Heaven [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Blood and Injury, Eternal Sterek, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sequel, Slow Build, Witch Stiles Stilinski, daddy!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4910458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimpseofbliss/pseuds/glimpseofbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The car goes quiet and he can't figure out if the silence is pregnant or dismissive. It’s all the same when Derek leaves you in silence.</p><p>“I was going to ask you if you felt weird about having her around, the reason I didn’t is because we never dated and you shouldn’t really feel weird.” It’s pointed and filled with blame, like it’s his fault for not feeling weird about it. The words feel sour in Stiles’ gut but his chest feels lighter, communication really is key.</p><p>“I don’t feel weird about it, she’s amazing. What I do feel weird about is you saying we never dated. I told you I loved you.”</p><p>“I said I loved you too, only thing is I meant it.” Stiles’ eyes sting with tears and he suddenly doesn’t want to communicate anymore.</p><p>“Who told you I didn’t mean it? You’re making fucking assumptions like you fucking know anything, I don’t fucking need this shit.” His voice cracks and he sounds pitiful, like a spoiled child who was told no.</p><p>“You asked for this, Stiles. You can’t keep fucking saying things and retracting them.” Derek yells, slamming his hand against the steering wheel before apologizing, wiping his mouth and stopping the car abruptly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [Something To Talk About.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3337229/chapters/7298279)
> 
> this fic can stand alone but it'll be really confusing the first couple of chapters if you dont read the previous story but obviously you dont have to, do what you want!
> 
> (the first few chapters are really confusing im sorry)

Another dead-end, another unreliable source, another day without his daughter,

"We have one more lead to ch-" 

"Just forget it." Stiles snaps and Derek slams his mouth shut, dropping the notepad onto the table. He glares at the ground and Stiles wants to drop down and smooth the frown lines on his face, instead he waits a minute so Derek can find the words twisting to the tip of his tongue. 

"I'm going. Braeden's waiting... I'll see you in a few." He gets up and walks out of the apartment, slamming the door and leaving an exhausted Stiles alone to process the day and find new leads. Stiles has yet to meet Braeden, the girl Derek started dating after it all went to shit but he was curious and jealous and annoyed that this was something that was actually bothering him, especially now.

"He was willing to wait for you, this is your fault so fix your face." Lydia sighs, flowing into the apartment with takeout and her hair halfway out a ponytail. It's like she can smell his thoughts, it's terrifying. 

"He seem pissed off?" Stiles asks, his eyes wandering over to the picture on the wall behind the couch like they do every night. 

"Very.. Lead no good?" She whispers, walking over and wrapping her arms around his waist. In the picture, Jamie was two, covered in dirt and smiling like she's anticipating the mess she's gonna make in the house. It leaves a burning pit in his gut, makes him feel empty and cold. The way it always did when he thought of her, thought of the year and a half stolen from him. 

"She uh, hadn't been there for three months and apparently she cut Jamie's hair and..." He rubs his hands over his face, trying to hold in tears and Lydia just shushes him, pushing him to the couch and sorting out their food. They sit in silence for a long time, both staring at the blank TV screen and Stiles hates to admit how badly he wants to laugh at something, anything just to get rid of the bile threatening to rise up as he eats. Lydia's phone vibrates and she groans, checking it before she throws it across the room and let's out a desperate yell. 

"Isaac hasn't found anything, he's coming home soon." She throws her head against the couch and Stiles hates how tired she looks, how tired he feels. 

"Have you met Braeden?" It's one of his fragile attempts to think about something other than Jamie and Lydia's head pops back up,

"Yeah I have." Her eyes soften and he frowns deeply, she only ever feels bad for him when it comes to Jamie and he hates how sensitive this topic already seems to be.

"Tell me what's up with her."

"She's seriously beautiful, she's a mercenary, uh... She's funny and she makes sure Derek doesn't wear pink and red together." She purses her lips and Stiles feels his chest tighten,

"What about their chemistry?" He scratches the side of his face and checks the clock, the pack would be coming soon and he wants to get rid of the jealousy that keeps eating up at him. 

"Truth?"

"Truth."

"They're nothing like you and him, there's no dying breath 'I love you's happening. But they're something... Something good but I think it depends on you whether they become a serious something." 

"Why me Lyds?" 

"Derek thinks you hung the moon just for him, Stiles. Of course it depends on y-" Scott bursts through the door with Kira on his back and Lydia gives them a tight smile, Stiles in turn looks away before he does something stupid like punch him in the face. 

Everyday Scott bursts in, sunshine and rainbows and just pure optimism and Stiles wishes he could crack him open and eat all the bitter, ugly sadness that he knows is trying to claw its way up Scott's throat right now. 

"I found something, I really found something." His grin is unbearable and Stiles falls back against the couch, scrubbing at his face. 

"Wait for the rest of the pack. If it's a dead end or a trap, its best we all follow it. Safety in numbers." He sounds like a recorded message, just repeating things when prodded. 

"Someone at work saw Jamie in a train station in New Jersey, two days ago. They took pictures." Stiles shoots up, snatching Scott's phone out of his hand. The screen is brightly lit, with a few people caught walking and it takes a minute before he spots her. She's holding onto someone's leg, a few inches taller than when Stiles' had last seen her. Her hair was short, much shorter and no longer touched her back but curled around her head like a cloud of smoke. He can't see the person that she's holding, only that she's holding them tightly and looks terrified. He stares at the picture, going over her features and committing them to memory, as if he forgot. He doesn't even know it when he starts to cry, just sees the drops on Scott's phone blurring the picture. She's alive and she's close and she's scared but she's alive and growing healthily from what he can tell. And while he's sitting here deteriorating, she could still be there in Jersey holding someone's leg, fear making a home in her. He's on autopilot, legs moving faster than his brain, pushing his way through the bunch of people now surrounding his door and racing down the hall. He hears the shouting, but the words refuse to push through his fog and he keeps moving. 

He runs to the parking lot, thoughts of saving and holding Jamie making him incoherent. Only slowing down once he reaches the jeep and thanking his lucky stars he thought to grab his keys off the table. He feels a familiar hand in his arm and jerks to a stop, preparing to fight them off. 

"Stiles." Funny how he does that. "Do what? What do I do?" Derek asks, his voice getting closer and quieter. 

"Break through whatever shit going on in my mind." Stiles sighs leaning against the jeep and sucking in a deep breath, he's extremely aware of every twitch, movement and look Derek gives him and he hates it. Derek lets go and leans up next to him, hand twitching next to Stiles' like he wants to do something but he's scared to. Stiles presses his head to the door, Derek's eyes traveling all over him and he feels naked. 

"You're gonna smudge the window and be pissed tomorrow." Derek says delicately lifting Stiles' head off the window and succeeding in making him laugh. The surprised look Derek makes hearing the sound makes Stiles laugh even harder, grabbing Derek's forearm to steady himself. They stand there for a while, Derek smirking and Stiles' laughing like he hadn't heard a good joke in years. 

"Feeling better? Do you need anything?" Derek asks when Stiles stops laughing and leans against the car, still holding Derek's arm. 

"I think we need to hit the car wash." Is all he says and Derek laughs, grabbing his keys and pushing Stiles towards the passenger door. 

 

"Where the fuck did you go?" Allison yells when they come through the door, Stiles giggling about the shitty way Derek parked the jeep and Derek grinning like everything he's ever done was to see Stiles laugh. She grabs Stiles face, checking over him for any cuts or bruises. 

"Stiles needed a break, I took him on that break. Stop trying to get grays at 24." He says nonchalantly, kissing her head and walking over to the couch. He throws his arm over someone Stiles hadn't noticed and kisses them on the mouth, using his open palm to pull her halfway onto his lap. She was beautiful, her skin flawless with the exception of the four clawed scars starting from her neck and disappearing into her shirt. She was so radiant, Stiles wanted to touch her. He felt the jealousy from earlier dancing up his throat, watching her fret over Derek quickly before standing up with her hand out at Stiles. 

"Braeden." She says when he grabbed her hand and found it in himself to smile,

"Stiles." She smiles and it's not sympathetic or empathetic, it's a genuine smile and he finds himself grateful for it. 

"So far all traces of Jamie since Jersey are cold," she says as soon as she drops his hand. "I've checked the cameras at the station though and she got on a train with a Caucasian male and Unknown female to New York at 8:30 pm." She hands Stiles three pictures, each one of Jamie in between two people. "She was last photographed wearing a pink bookbag, blue jeans, black coat, black sneakers. The two adults she was with are wearing outfits identic-"

"Is that Malia?" He asks, stunning Braeden and Lydia makes her way over, pulling the picture towards herself and looking closer. 

"It is." She whispers, pulling the picture closer to her face and frowning. "Her hair is just blonder now, but that's her." Derek and Zyra are now crowded around them, murmuring affirmatives.

"Should I try and call her?" Stiles asks, hating the quiver in his voice and the fact that he feels like he's about to breakdown in front of a stranger. The same stranger who's staring at him with genuine worry and underlying wonder. He feels Derek's arm wrap around his waist and he knows her wandering eyes caught that. 

"Call her." Derek says, inspecting the picture. 

The phone rings and Stiles feels as if his anxiety is going to finally kill him once and for all when it's picked up. 

"I probably should have changed my number."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sunday's

Where is she?" He croaks and she sighs, muttering a curse under her breath. 

"If you know I'm with her that means they know. Have you been careful?"

"Careful? Malia where is my baby?" He gasps, tears stinging behind his eyes. Lydia grabs his hand and it comforts him to feel how shaky she is, like he's not alone in this paralyzing fear. 

"Hey man, are there any outsiders in your pack? Anyone new that you've been around? I need to know, it's the only way to keep this stuff fresh until the drop." She says and it clicks in his head the moment it clicks in Lydia's. She's running around checking the rooms and tapping the walls.

"No. Not anyone I don't trust." She clicks her tongue, 

"Look," She's panting into the phone, the background noise making it hard to hear her sudden change in pitch. "She'll be home by tomorrow okay, but please be on the lookout. I'm doing everything that I can to make it easier." Malia groans and there's a loud clattering before the line goes dead.

The silence in the room drives him up the wall and he slips his phone into his back pocket, looking around at the stunned looks on his friends faces before going into his room and gathering everything he needs to put his alarms back up. He starts from Jamie's room, ignoring the talking that starts up once he gets in there. It's the first time he's stepped through the doorway since she's left and it takes everything in him not to break down when he doesn't see Jamie in her crib. 

"I can do it." Zyra whispers from the door, smiling when Stiles turns to her.

"Magic while pregnant? I think Caleb would disembowel me." He laughs, blowing ash off his hands and slipping out to Lydia's room, Zyra's soft footsteps behind him.

"He probably would if he even saw me in here, he's been very on edge lately."

"His mother?"

"His mother keeps insisting I stop corrupting her daughter. I keep insisting that I am only corrupting her son." Stiles laughs, almost dropping his pot on Lydia's bed. Zyra hums, sitting in the desk chair and staring at him, legs crossed like she's patiently waiting for him to spill his guts. 

"Zy.."

"You know I'm here to talk, about whatever you need to speak about. I am here." His hands still over the bowl and everything he was trying to hold back threatened to spill out on the floor, burns at his throat so bad he cries out. 

"What if she doesn't remember me? It... It's been so long.." He dry heaves and Zyra shoots out her seat, grabbing the bowl out of his hand and pulling him into her chest. They start trembling and Stiles realizes it's him, lets the sobs wrack his body and Zyra whisper in his ear. 

"You're her daddy. You are her daddy and she loves you and she'll always remember you. Stop crying, you're going to make her sad." She runs her knuckles down his back and he snorts, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to wipe his face. 

"You stop crying." He mumbles quietly, dropping his head onto her shoulder. 

 

Stiles is up at 5:30 the next morning, scrubbing the floors and reprimanding himself for not doing this sooner. He hears footsteps come from his room before he sees Braeden down on the ground with him, long brown hair pulled up on top of her head in a half attempt to look decent at 5:30 in the morning.

“Expecting someone?” She whispers, grabbing one of the rags from the bucket and scrubbing at the spot in front of her. He sits back on his feet, watching this girl who barely knows him, his ex's new girlfriend, scrub his floor at 5:30 in the morning.

“You don’t hav-”

“I want to. I know I don’t have to.” She smiles at him and he scoffs, going back to scrub at that spot on the ground that refuses to budge. She coughs and he looks up again, pretends not to notice how far away she looks.

“The same people took my daughter too, four years ago. I still haven’t gotten her back but... I help anyone I can, anyone who hires me anyway. This is the first job I've been on where the kid comes back." 

"Hire you?" He moves the bucket between them and sits back, taking a break because he's not as young as he used to be. 

"Of course, what'd you think? I was just some eye candy?" He laughs loudly, watching her hair fall out of it's bun with every twist of her hand. 

"So Derek is just..."

"Perks." They both laugh and Stiles' chest hurts a little less because Braeden isn't sorry or indifferent, she just is, and Stiles can appreciate that. 

 

"This is the first time I've seen you sit down since you got out of the hospital." Kira exclaims, draping her legs over Stiles' lap. 

"This is the first time I've seen you in something without fur on it." She shocks his leg, without looking up from her phone, with her middle finger just to add to the offense. With Braeden's help every room in the house was scrubbed clean and rearranged by 7:30, he would've painted too but the stare Lydia fixed him with when he retrieved the paint cans. 

So now they wait. 

And Stiles hates waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come Yell At Me.](http://divinekira.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> please give me feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> random update? yes.

It's 2:30 now and Stiles is sure that if he paces the apartment one more time, Kira is gonna rip his head off his shoulders. He knows not to depend on Malia too much, the message was vague and she might've just been playing on his hopes to rile him up. But still after an entire year of searching relentlessly and coming up empty handed every time, any talk of Jamie being back home makes his skin crawl in agitated anticipation. 

"Stiles....Stiles, stop biting your nails." Braeden grabs his hands from his mouth and places them in her lap, smiling like she was incapable of feeling anything other than happiness. 

"You should've gone to work." Isaac says from across the room with his head in Ashley's lap, feet in Derek's. 

"You didn't even go to work." Stiles mutters, grabbing Braeden's wrist. 

“I’ve suddenly gone on vacation.” He stretches and places his hands under his head, closing his eyes he sighs before speaking again. “Why are we going off of Malia’s word, Stiles? We should be following the lead we got.” 

“Let’s go follow it then.” Stiles says, knowing that Isaac is just talking to talk. The room is silent for a few seconds before Derek snorts, pushing Isaac’s legs off of him to sit on the same couch Braeden’s on. Stiles is pacing again, pretending he doesn’t feel Derek’s eyes tracking every movement he makes and his conversation with Lydia comes to mind again.

He’s sick of every bone in his body conflicting with each other when it comes to Derek.

The room falls silent again, making Stiles feel sick to his stomach thinking about all the possible things that could’ve happened in the few hours since he spoke to Malia. He’s about to say something when the shrill sound of his phone throws him into uncoordinated action.

“Hello? Hello?” He shouts in the phone, struggling to hold himself up.

“I’m at…” Malia sounds distant and weak, he can hear her quivering as she struggles to give him her location.

“Save your strength, turn on your GPS and we’ll find you okay? Just hold on, don’t fall asleep, you’re gonna be fine.” She laughs into the phone, breathless and hollow. He snaps at Isaac, knowing they’re all hearing the conversation and watches as he fumbles over his laptop.

“I won’t. But that’s okay, I’m fine with that.” She wheezes and Stiles’ chest clenches and he has to bite his finger to refrain himself from rushing Isaac, who was currently zeroing in on Malia’s location. “I want you to know that I’ve been trying to get her home for six months, they didn’t have her very long.” Isaac shouts out a ‘got it’ and the room finally bursts into action, somebody pulling his elbow as he tries to think of things to say to make her feel comfortable.

“Thank you, Malia. When we get you guys home, I’ll make waffles.” Her laugh is strained and she’s quiet for a while after.

“I’m going to hang up okay? I told Jamie if you guys aren’t here in an hour to go underground, just in case you don’t see her here there’s a trap door right behind the room I’m in.” 

“Don’t ha-“

“Bye, Stiles.” The line goes dead and Stiles can’t seem to stop his hands from shaking as he slides into the passenger seat of a car, whose car? He isn’t sure until there's a napkin shoved into his palm.

“Why are you giving me a napkin?” He mutters, staring at the sheet like it’s personally offended him.

“Because you’re crying.” Derek says, making an aggressive turn onto the highway.

“Seems fair, where’s Braeden?” He asks wiping his face. Derek glances over at him, confusion dancing across his face before he settles back into stone.

“She went ahead to see if it was a setup.” He hesitates as if he’s going to speak again but just shakes his head and turns his attention to the road. It’s been like this for months, almost spoken words passed between them and Stiles is so fucking tired of it.

“Whatever you were going to say, just say it. I don’t know when we started holding our tongues with each other but I want it to stop.” The car goes quiet and he can't figure out if the silence is pregnant or dismissive. It’s all the same when Derek leaves you in silence.

“I was going to ask you if you felt weird about having her around, the reason I didn’t is because we never dated and you shouldn’t really feel weird.” It’s pointed and filled with blame, like it’s his fault for not feeling weird about it. The words _feel_ sour in Stiles’ gut but his chest feels lighter, communication really is key.

“I don’t feel weird about it, she’s amazing. What I do feel weird about is you saying we never dated. I told you I loved you.”

“I said I loved you too, only thing is I meant it.” Stiles’ eyes sting with tears and he suddenly doesn’t want to communicate anymore.

“Who told you I didn’t mean it? You’re making fucking assumptions like you fucking know anything, I don’t fucking need this shit.” His voice cracks and he sounds pitiful, like a spoiled child who was told no.

“You asked for this, Stiles. You can’t keep fucking saying things and retracting them when it best suits you.” Derek yells, slamming his hand against the steering wheel before apologizing, wiping his mouth and stopping the car abruptly. Stiles can’t breathe, he doesn’t understand why he acts like this is news, like he didn't know how Derek felt about this. He wants to continue the conversation, he wants Derek to scream at him and call him selfish, he wants Derek to slam the door on him. All he gets is slightly raised voices and apologies that hold more blame for him than guilt. He’s about to get out of the car when Derek throws an arm across his chest.

“What?”

“Isaac says it’s bad in there. To get Jamie and get out.” Derek mumbles, he’s sympathetic and Stiles feels that lump in his throat threaten to suffocate him.

“Is Malia okay?” He whispers and Derek’s silence is enough to make him push his way out of the car and stumble blindly towards the building where he could hear Braeden giving Isaac orders.

Kira’s gagging by the door her face drained of any color and she shakes her head when he walks in, tears streaking down her cheeks like they’re racing to get away from whatever horror she’s seen. Stiles pushes past Isaac, gripping his shoulder like an anchor when he sees Malia on the ground. She died with her eyes open in a pool of her own blood, but that’s not the only thing that causes the grief stricken moan to rip out of his throat. It’s his little girl, sitting in the middle of that pool of blood, tiny palms painted red as she tries to stop the bleeding.

“Daddy, she won’t stop bleeding. Daddy, please help me.” She whimpers, her eyes glowing when she looks over at him. His feet move faster than his mind and he’s instantly by her side, kneeling in the blood, feeling it soak through his jeans. Still warm, still fresh like the person it came from was still living. Like if he looked up Malia would be putting a bandage over a paper cut and smiling at him. He grabs Jamie’s hands from Malia’s warm side and shudders, pulling her into his arms and running backwards. He catches Malia’s unfocused eyes one last time and wills her to look at him before someone is blocking her from his sight. 

“Get out!” The person blocking his view of her pushes him out the door and the brisk spring air shocks him back into reality, pulls him out of the bloody sadness that had his palms sweating and uncomfortable on the ratty wool of Jamie’s jacket. He picks her up completely, his bloodied hands pushing her dirty head into his shoulder, and runs to Derek’s car. He buckles Jamie up while inspecting her, hands poking and prodding, eyes boring into her skin trying to identify any blemishes. She was bloodied but none of it was her own and Stiles feels dizzy with relief and sorrow. 

“Daddy, where are we going without Malia?” Jamie cries when Derek slides in the driver's seat, Stiles forgoing the passenger seat and sitting directly behind him absentmindedly peeling blood off of Jamie’s hands.

“We’re going home baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is very important and i really love this chapter even though it's mean and all over the place.


	4. Chapter 4

Jamie cried all day right into the night and when she tired herself out from all of that crying, falling asleep clinging to Stiles like he might float away, Stiles allowed himself to cry too.

Out of gratitude, out of mourning, out of fear, out of need.

He wanted Malia alive so he could thank her for bringing back his little girl.

He wanted to know who partially decapitated the one person trying to save his child.

He wanted to know if that person was coming for his family, it would be a bit harder to get through 6 wolves of course but knowing what to expect would give them the advantage.

He wanted to cuddle Jamie between him and Derek so she’d never be taken from him again.

Even in pain, his mind is focused on the very person who seems hell bent on tearing him apart from the inside out.

Jamie stirs, her longer, thinner legs wrapping around his torso. Her trademark afro, now shorter and much more wild than he remembers seemed to move on it’s own accord. Tightly coiled curls shifting over his shoulders and down his arm, like a blanket and he has to wonder if her mother’s magician taught her to control her magic. At the house when they found Malia everyone seemed to be steady on their feet even though Jamie herself was in distress and when they reached home, setting fire to the abandoned house before heading back, they felt a little subdued but not full on incapable as she wailed in the bathroom. He hugs her tighter, the borrowed t-shirt bunching up under him. He has to take her shopping tomorrow, all of her clothes are too small now. She’s shot up like a weed, almost up to Stiles’ waist and he’s sure she’s going to be towering over him before she hits 13. Her eyes, no longer blue but a warm honey brown, lacked the youth and enthusiasm they once had and Stiles felt like throwing up every time he imagined what could make his daughter age 30 years since the last time he’d seen her. He cradles Jamie’s head to his chest and lets himself cry again, shallow pitiful things that seem to wrack his entire body. It’s unfair and it’s his fault and he’s powerless. He has no idea how to fix things, how to help his daughter, how to repair himself. He just wants it all to stop being so unfair. He jumps when Jamie presses her open palm to his back. She pulls away from his chest to look him in the eye, her own glowing bright orange like she was excreting massive amounts of power.

“Malia always told me not to cry in bed, it gives you swell eye in the morning.” She whispered, wiping his eyes with tiny fist.

“Why were you crying in bed before?” He asks tentatively, he doesn’t wanna force her to tell him anything until she’s ready.

“Because I missed you daddy.” She says it like it was the obvious answer and he laughs, kissing her forehead.

“I missed you too sassy pants, now let’s sleep. I promised you waffles in the morning.”

 

He wakes up to Scott sitting on his floor with Jamie nestled in his arms, he looks calm, different, like he took off his mask. Stiles doesn’t feel like cracking him open anymore, probably because he’s managed to do that himself.

“She smells like grass.” Scott whispers, carding trembling fingers through her living hair.

“I’m sure her and Malia have had to hide underground more than once.” Stiles answers, sleep still singing in his voice. He watches Scott’s arms tighten around her and looks away when he looks up. That wasn’t for his eyes.

“Derek wants to speak to you, he’s next door.” Stiles nods, pushing his hands over his bald head quickly and getting out of bed. He wants to hug his brother, finds that he prefers happy go lucky ‘everything is alright!’ Scott over this one any day. He slips out the room and takes care of his breath, staring at himself in the mirror as he brushes his teeth. He looks 40 years older, the purple bags under his eyes like a prize in exchange for all the sleep he’s lost. He slips on socks and walks over to Isaac’s apartment, the strong smell of Derek’s foreign brew hitting him in the face like a fist. Ashley’s on the floor beneath the window doing yoga, and she nods slightly when he touches her head. He feels her eyes following him as he knocks on the bedroom door out of courtesy because he doesn’t wait for an invitation, just walks in like he owns everything. Braeden’s still sleeping against the wall, all the blankets wrapped around her shoulders like she had been freezing. Derek was sitting on the bean bag that Stiles’ dad had sent them when him and Scott first moved over here. His usually gelled black hair was wavy and untouched, falling over onto his forehead and making him look 10 years younger. His thick glasses were sliding down his nose and he kept his strong coffee pressed to his mouth like Stiles had caught him in the middle of something.

He was irresistible and Stiles had very little training in self control.

He wanted to kiss Derek’s mouth and taste the muted flavors of the stupidly expensive coffee, he wanted to run his hands through his baby soft hair and push his stupid glasses up his nose.

Instead he sits down and raises an eyebrow at Derek, who still has the coffee cup pressed to his mouth.

“Scott said you wanted me?” He says, leaning against the bed that Braeden was stirring in.

“Not at five in the morning.” He mumbles, finally taking a swig of the stupid coffee.

“Well you got me at five in the morning.” Stiles answers, annoyed that Derek is taking so long to put his cup down. Stiles wants to see the sour face he makes after swallowing his morning coffee.

“Not sure I really want you at five in the morning.” Derek smirks and Stiles feels his rabbit heart stop.

“T-that’s too bad. What do you want?” 

“I wanna know where that guy went. The guy that was with Malia and Jamie in the picture. I think Jamie might know.” Derek fixes his glasses and Stiles’ neck warms up. He forgot about the man who was holding Jamie’s hand in the train station. Another threat, another reason to want to run.

“I’ll ask her when I think she’s ready, right now I just need her to settle down and get used to not being in danger anymore.” Derek laughs loudly and Braeden sits up quickly, looking down at them before turning over and laying down.

“Did you not see what happened to Malia? If we don’t find out who that guy is and what he knows as soon as possible that will be all of us.” Stiles stomach churns and he wants to scream at Derek, ‘I know, I’m a failure! I know, I know! All this magic and I’m still weak!’

Instead he shakes his head and picks his word carefully, because he doesn’t want to fight with Derek. Not today, not at all anymore.

“She’s four and just went through a year and half of something extremely traumatizing, you can see it on her face. We’ll set up extra precautions and try to figure things out with what we know until she’s ready to talk.”

“Come on, Stiles!” He explodes, nearly dropping his coffee. Braeden sits up again and says something but Stiles doesn’t hear her, instead he’s focused on how warm his hands are, the way the skin on the back of his neck is prickling. “We need to make sure we’re protected, not assume because we have extra precautions up that we’re fine.” Stiles blinks slowly, because he doesn’t want to fight with Derek. Not in front of Braeden, not at all.

“So what you prefer is a traumatized four year old but all the bad guys dead over a mentally healthy four year old who will feel safe whether we kill the bad guy or not?” He feels his voice getting louder and snaps his mouth shut, blinking slowly again. Braeden gets out of the bed and touches his arm, whispering to him. He isn’t listening to her because Derek starts again.

“Asking her who he is isn’t going to cause her to unwind completely. You of all people should want to attack first.” Stiles is standing now, moving backwards and shaking his head. His mouth tastes of bile and anger and he wishes he could hit Derek without ruining everything, just once to get everything out. This isn’t healthy.

“Just because you want to make yourself feel like you’re a better alpha than Scott was by killing an enemy doesn’t mean you get to throw my daughter’s wellbeing away.” He’s surprised by how even his voice is, how grounded he feels saying this, how hurt Derek looks when he stops speaking. It feels like everything stops for a minute before Braeden pushes him out of the room calling him an asshole as she slams the door in his face, it stings coming from her mouth but he knows she’s right. Ashley’s standing at the end of the hallway, watching him as he glares at the door. Isaac comes out of his room, hair matted and mouth taut.

“Why’d you say that, Stiles?” Ashley asks and he shakes his head, cause he doesn’t know.

“This isn’t my fault. He’s trying to force me to talk to Jamie about what happened, she’s not ready.” He doesn’t believe it’s not his fault, he doesn’t believe he could blame Derek for all of this.

“He’s not the reason Jamie was kidnapped, it’s not his fault and it’s not yours either. He’s just trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again. He’s scared.” Her voice is an octave too high and he doesn’t bother looking towards her, tears would only rile him up more.

“I’m scared too.”

 

Lydia goes to work that day, kissing Jamie on the forehead and ignoring Stiles as she floats through the apartment. Allison kisses both him and Jamie before she leaves, stomping behind Lydia muttering a few aggressive sounding french words. Zyra comes over and hugs him for five whole minutes, then hugs Jamie who’s in awe over her big belly. Caleb gives her a stuffed dog and a kiss then walks out of the apartment, pretending he doesn’t see Stiles the whole time.

“They’re picking sides? What the fuck is this? A-aaa divorce?” He asks Isaac, who’s playing in Jamie’s hair as she naps between the both of them. 

“Yes because they’re all fucking children, stupid fucking children. You weren’t wrong for putting him in his place, he was way out of line.” Isaac rubs at his temple and Stiles guesses that he’s arguing with Ashley.

“I still shouldn’t have said what I said. Are you guys arguing?” Isaac nods, throwing his phone onto the armchair across the room.

“Her and Lydia keep saying that while you were right you didn’t need to be that rude, that he was just scared and trying to help. No excuse.” Isaac scoffs at the same time Stiles snorts.

“Fuck this, this is literally bullshit. It’s not their business.” Stiles’ phone rings and when he picks it up he’s getting yelled at by a deranged sounding Erica.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? You just think you can stomp and fucking trash whoever you feel like. Derek is a fucking person you cannot treat him like fucking shit because he loves you, you fucking dick!” He’s mildly annoyed, at the conversation, at his pack mates insistence of being in everyone’s business.

“You’re a mother, if Alicia and Alex curse like sailors when they’re older, you are to blame.” Isaac stifles a laugh next to him and he suddenly feels a little bit better.

“Fuck you, Stiles. You need to pick your words better stop saying things that make you feel like you’re better than someone. It’s not… right.”

“Do you know the full story? Probably not, so I’ll tell you what you should know. He tried to force me to get Jamie to talk about the last year and a half.” She clucks and hears Boyd say ‘I told you there was more to it.’ 

“I might’ve yelled too soon.” She mumbles and Isaac has to bury his face into his arm to muffle his laughter. “Look I’m sorry okay, I’m having a rough morning. We’ll talk when I get over there, tell Isaac to go fuck himself. And just apologize. You were both wrong.”

“While she was wrong and abrupt about many things…” Boyd says and Stiles can hear the grin in his voice.

“Very many things.” He interjects and Boyd laughs,

“Very many things. She was right about how you treat him. Don’t treat him like shit cause he loves you, it’s not his fault. It’s not your fault you love him back, even after all of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck am i writing anymore. everything is fucking crazy *throws papers in the air*
> 
> sorry i know this is all so confusing and i know it's crazy and kind of dysfunctional but i promise in three chapters things will start making sense i promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's POV

Isaac bangs on his door, waiting a second before he strides in with Boyd and a wobbling Alicia on his heels.

“We’re doing dinner at Stiles’. Help us move the table.” He sounds impatient, like someone forced him to come in here but he’d rather be dipped in a vat of toxic waste.

“I’ll cook but I won't stay.” That's what he's been doing all week, making sure they're fed then retreating to his borrowed room. He doesn’t want to be around anyone who can’t stand him but refuses to go too far. Isaac rolls his eyes but doesn't go off on a tangent the way he wants, instead he points at Boyd who looks at the both of them like they're misbehaving in a supermarket. 

“Zyra said you are or she's going to lock all of us into one room until we kiss it out.” Derek huffs, picking up Alicia who’s wrapped around his leg, and following them out. He takes his time walking over, playing with Alicia in the hall until Boyd comes to confiscate her and Derek is forced to go into the apartment. 

Derek is a grown ass man, a fucking alpha and he’s scared to step into an room because of a fucking amateur mage. So he swallows his fear and his pride and forces himself into the room, nearly choking on the tension present once he walks in.

What bothers him the most is the way Stiles refuses to look up from his phone. 

He hates how fragile and subdued he looks and how much he wants to hold him.

He hates how angry he is over something neither of them had any control of.

It's a bunch of mixed up emotions and they're making him want to throw up onto the ground. He doesn't know if he wants to apologize or yell at any given point in time and he’s not used to feeling so emotionally unstable. Stiles flicks his eyes over to where Jamie is playing with Alex and the tiny smile that spreads across his face has Derek running into the kitchen, dry heaving like he’s been hit.

“You ok?” Zyra asks from the floor, blonde hair creating a halo around her head.

“Ears.” He says and she nods, going back to the pot that was nestled between her legs. 

“What is that?” He asks 

“A pot.” Her accent comes out sharper than usual and Derek has to resist from rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, your ‘herbing’ pot. What are you making.” 

“Why must you know, Derek?” She looks up at him, her stained green fingertips delicately pulling leaves off of a branch. She looks like she’s getting ready to scold him and he feels like he’s ten years old and just got caught cheating on a test.

“I don’t need to know, you’re right.” He smiles sheepishly and she nods like she’s taught him a lesson.

“You mustn't push yourself where you have not been invited. I’m making a healing herb to put in the food, you will not taste it but it will heal all of us. Spiritually, physically, emotionally.” She looks back down into her pot and Derek scoffs, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. He knows her child is in for a whirlwind of life lessons and potion making and starts to wonder if Zyra’s parents were anything like she is. If she is exactly like her mother or father or if she even knew them. She doesn’t talk about Africa much, tries her best to cover up her accent and has dragged Derek along with her to cover up multiple tattoos. She makes sure they don’t say her name in public as if she has people looking for her and made Caleb cover up the tattoo of her name on his neck when they went to Russia to visit Derek’s grandparents.

_“Are you hiding from the Russian mafia?” Ashley asks, wiping her glasses in her shirt as she watches Zyra apply concealer onto Caleb’s neck. Derek's waiting on the couch, butterflies swarming his gut as he thinks about his trip to Russia. He’s going to be 300,000 miles away from Stiles, not his Stiles either, the Stiles who’s paralyzed with grief and misery. He feels selfish like this is a personal trip, even though he’s going to find out more about the mage who almost killed Stiles and broke a thousand year old spell._

_“The Russians do not scare me. It’s the people with no homeland that I am worried about.” Her accent is thick and Derek reaches out to touch her arm, trying his best to comfort her while he himself is a hurricane. She does a good job of covering it up but when she’s upset it overwhelms all of her practice and leaves her two steps away from reverting back to her native language._

_“Our visit will be a secret.” He says and she smiles, dabbing at her husband's neck like she’s killing a fly._

Kira pinching his arm pulls him out of his daze and she smiles when he scowls at him.

“What?” He growls and she giggles, running a thumb over his eyebrows.

“Can you come beat this meat?” She asks, jabbing her thumb to the steak on the counter. He snorts and she bursts out into laughter, high fiving herself when Derek starts to laugh.

“That was awful.”

“I’m the funniest person you know.” He nods and she wiggles her way over to the counter.  
They work in silence for a while; Kira mixing together ingredients to make a cake, Zyra making her love potion, and Derek beating about twelves slabs of meat.

“Have you spoken to him since last week?” Kira asks, mixing her bowl over the sink and looking over her shoulder like Stiles might materialize at any moment. Derek grunts and keeps tenderizing the meat in front of him. She shoulders him and he grunts louder before dropping the tiny hammer on the counter.

“No I have not. Why?” She raises her eyebrows and says nothing, pouring the bowl's contents into a pan behind her. She doesn’t say anything for five minutes and Derek feels like he’s suffocating with anticipation. When she moves back over to him he finally breaks, sagging against the counter and groaning.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, voice sickly sweet cause she knows her tactics worked.

“I don’t know, I want things to be normal again. We have Jamie back but now half the pack can’t stand each other and Stiles won’t even look at me.”

“Is that why you were in the middle of his apartment glaring at him? That’s how you make things normal?” Braeden asks, strolling in with Alex sleeping on her shoulder. 

“Communication isn’t either of their strong suits.” Kira answers and Braeden snorts, switching Alex in her arms and grinning at Derek.

“I know, especially when they both think they were right.” 

“I know I wasn’t right.” Both of their eyebrows shoot up and he starts beating at the meat like it personally offended him.

 

When they all sit down for dinner, Braeden makes Derek sit between her and Isaac and kisses him sweetly when he scowls at her. 

“So guys, I have something to say.” She says, grabbing Derek’s hand under the table. He secretly takes pleasure in being able to hold her hand. Braeden was special to him, she was fire and ice and sugar all at the same time. She’d fuck him like she hated him and talk to him like he was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. The first time she met him she told him they were either going to love each other or hate each other but they would still fuck each other. He never blushed so hard in his life. The day he told her about Stiles she treated him like he was her best friend instead of the guy she was having sex with.

_“You love him.” She teased sitting back against the headboard, cheesy grin threatening to crack her face. He couldn’t help but gape at her, they’d just finished having sex and she was teasing him about loving someone else._

_“N-no not anymore. He’s m-mmy fri-”_

_“It’s okay if you’re emotionally unavailable. I’m not looking to marry you, as soon as we find Jamie I’m leaving so it’s not a problem. So admittttt it.” She throws her leg over his waist and grins, poking his chest._

_“I don’t love him.” He says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing._

_“Fine, then we just won’t have sex period.” She says, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and rolling off of Derek. He shrugs and they sit there for twenty minutes in silence, Braeden refusing to cover herself up although Derek knows she’s freezing._

_“Okay, I love him. You’re right I love him whatever, round two?” She throws her phone across the room and straddles him again, smiling so hard she takes his breath away._

The entire table turns to her, even Alex, who probably has no idea what she even said but the pretty girl said something so she requires his attention. 

“So, I’ve gotten a lead on you know what. And I’m leaving in a week. I’ll be keeping you guys updated on everything that happens and I just wanted to take the time since we’re all finally here to say thank you. You guys are really amazing and I’ve never felt more at home anywhere. I’ve known you guys for like three weeks but I feel like this is home you know. Thank you for that.” Everyone starts wishing her well and asking her to come back when she finishes her trip, Scott even offers to go with her. It makes Derek’s eyes well up; his pack took this random girl he brought to them and made her one of them, this random girl found it in her heart to love the people she was working for and if she didn’t have to go do her job she’d be staying. It’s a tiny thing but it makes Derek’s heart feel lighter, until Stiles opens his mouth.

“Are you taking Derek with you?” He says it with a grin but Derek can see the panic in his eyes and wants to fold him up in his lap and carry him around wherever he goes.

“No.” She laughs, teeth shining and dangerous. “Too many loose-ends for him to tie up here besides, he’s way too domesticated.” Stiles nods, smiling at her before sitting back against his seat and staring at nothing like he’d been doing before all the commotion. It takes all of his willpower and Jamie feeding him mashed potatoes for Derek not to look at Stiles who hasn’t touched a single thing on his plate all night. It gets to the point where Derek is just staring at Stiles’ plate like he’s trying to will the food into his mouth. When Erica notices his aggressive staring she pulls her eyebrows together like she’s asking him a question. He raises his back in response and she nods, nudging Stiles hand and whispering in his ear. The quick glance over to Derek, who still isn’t looking at Stiles, is followed by the clattering of his fork to the ground as Stiles pushes out of his seat and storms out of the apartment. Derek doesn’t realize he’s following him out until the door hits him on his back. Stiles is making his way down the steps and when Derek reaches out to touch him, he pulls his hand back so quick he would’ve fallen if Derek hadn’t caught him.

“Be careful, Jesus Christ.” Derek grits out, righting Stiles on the step below him.

“I… What do you want?” He’s looking at Derek’s shoulder instead of his face and it makes Derek cringe.

“An argument between us doesn’t mean you can just not eat, you have these enchantments to keep up they take up a lot of your energy.” 

“This is an argument between us? You have everyone picking sides, it’s no longer between us.” He finally meets Derek’s eyes and Derek wishes he hadn’t because he can’t deal with the anger in them being directed at him.

“I have everyone picking sides? I didn’t even know everyone else knew about it until I asked Allison to help dress Jamie on Monday and she almost bit my head off. It’s fucking strange that you’re more upset with people knowing about the fight and picking sides than the fact that we actually fought.”

“It’s fucking strange that you seem to think you have any right to tell me what to do with my daughter.”

“You’re completely right and I’m sorry I’m not making any excuses, I was completely wrong.” Stiles stares at Derek like he just sprouted wings on his head for a second before rolling his eyes and hitting his hand on the banister.

“Fuck you, you're just trying to fucking make me seem like the bad guy. You're pretending to care about my health and falsely apologizing so they fucking think that you’re the only one trying to be civil. You want so much fucking sympathy.”

“You’re acting so insanely immature right now. Pretending to care about your health? Stiles, please this entire argument is because I care about your health. You don't have to accept my apology but please just know that I really am sorry.” Stiles starts to stare again and Derek starts preparing himself for the verbal ass whipping he’s about to get. Stiles eyes dart to his lips and back to his shoulder before he sags against the banister like this argument had drained every ounce of his energy. 

“You do whatever it takes to get me on your side again, don't you? Is that why you keep cooking all my favorite things? Food isn’t the way to my heart.”

“No, it’s just coincidence.” In Derek's life nothing is coincidence, he actually had been trying to win Stiles back by making all of his favorite meals, listening to all of his favorite songs, even going as far as putting a new air freshener in the car. He’s not very good with words or actions, but he really does try.

“Good. I’m too pissed to even eat.” 

“Oh so because you're mad at me, you refuse to eat? “ 

“That’s not it, you’re not that important.” Stiles sounds like a petulant child and Derek almost laughs when he crosses his arms and stares at the steps.

“If I’m not that important why did you storm out when Erica told you I was worried?”

“Cause you’re annoying.” Stiles mutters and Derek finally erupts with laughter, leaning against the wall and laughing louder when Stiles rolls his eyes. He feels a little less heavy because things feel a little more normal.

“I’m not disagreeing with you. Just eat please, Zyra sprinkled some ‘spiritual healing’ shit in it. It’s supposed to replenish you and rid us of all the bad mojo we got surrounding us.” he gets a laugh out of Stiles and has to repress his own grin.

“Don’t say the word ‘mojo’ again okay?” Stiles says brushing past him as he walks up the steps. Derek grabs his arm again, this time instead of almost falling down the steps though, Stiles turns around with an eyebrow raised and his arm limp in Derek’s hand. 

“Are we okay?” He sounds as tired as he feels and suddenly the question means more than it originally did.

Stiles shrugs, a quick jerky movement that Derek would've missed if he wasn't watching him. 

“Are my mashed potatoes poisoned?” 

“No, but I can change that.”

“We’re cool then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY ! THINGS WILL START GETTING BETTER (WRITING WISE) AND WORSE(STORY WISE) AND I LOVE YOU IF YOU'RE STICKING AROUND
> 
> FEED BACK IS VITAL BECAUSE I AM ONLY A BEAN


	6. Chapter 6

Derek wakes up on Stiles’ couch, Jamie pressed into his side with her elbow in his ribs. Boyd is in the armchair across from them and he thinks one of the twins are sleeping on one of the blankets on the floor. It’s 5:43 in the morning and he’s sure he’s the only one up until he hears a muttered ‘shit’ in the kitchen. He slips off the couch, covering Jamie and kissing her forehead before walking into the kitchen to find Stiles there with his finger in his mouth and the stove on.

“How did you burn yourself?” Derek asks, turning the stove off and leaning against the counter.

“I was trying to move the pot at the same time I turned the flame on.” 

“You know, Scott always says you’re a genius but I’ve never really seen it.”

“Ha, ha. You know Isaac always says you’re an asshole, I always fucking see it.” Derek half smiles half snarls at him and Stiles gives him the finger, this time turning on the stove without any body parts near the flame.

“If you want I can cook it’s not a problem.” He hopes Stiles doesn’t hear the pity in his voice but truth is ever since Jamie got home, Stiles has been looking worse for wear. Whether it’s because he hasn’t eaten for a week or whether it’s the extra safety precautions he put up after finding Malia dead, he looks like he’s constantly on the brink of death.

“I’m not making food, I’m making that really disgusting healing shit that Zyra makes me drink that you’ll probably never have to drink and it kind of sucks. I’m almost completely drained by protection sigils that barely used to take a quarter out of me.”

“Cause you’re not eating or taking care of yourself or leaving the house or-”

“Th-Thank you, Derek.” He responds, eyeing him with as much exasperation as he could muster in his half living state. “Anyways, I’m leaving the house today I have to take Jamie shopping.” He dumps a bag of brown leaves into the pot and they emit such an aroma that Derek has to take several steps away to keep from throwing up.

“Okay, that’s good. I’ll be ready by 9.” His eyes begin to water and he wants to cry for Stiles’ sake. He can hardly stand the smell of it, can’t even imagine drinking it.

“I didn’t invite you.” Stiles says, small smile tugging at his lips. Derek shrugs and checks his watch before backing towards the doorway.

“You want me there anyway." He doesn't miss the full on grin Stiles throws his way as he walks out.

Derek never imagined he’d be carrying two babies and following one toddler through the Children’s Place at the age of 28. But here he is, trying to keep up with Jamie who is plowing her way through the baby section to get to the “Big Kids” section while Alex is dead weight in his left arm and Alicia is squirming around in his right.

“I want pants like yours, Derek! You hide so many things, I want to hide things.” Jamie whines, pushing her tiny hands in his pocket and pulling him to the wall where all the pants were hanging from. He finally puts Alicia down and watches as she instantly runs to hide behind the rack of shirts next to him. He picks out five pairs of pants that look like they’ll fit Jamie by the time Stiles comes back over with three bags in his hand and the twins’ carriage dragging behind him. He twists his face up when he finally reaches them and Derek’s hands shoot to his hair, just in case.

“What happened?” He asks as he’s putting Alex in the carriage, glancing up to see Stiles’ looking at the pants Jamie chose.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Situations.” Derek gives Stiles a questioning look and goes to pay for Jamie’s things, he feels Stiles burn holes into his back the rest of the day.

 

In the car with all three kids sleeping, Stiles is hostile, huffing angrily and typing rapidly on his phone. He shoots a glare over at Derek twice before Derek finally lowers the radio and looks over at him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Traffic comes to a standstill and Derek feels like every time there’s a turning point in their relationship, the entire world stops to let it play out.

“I think that you should go with Braeden.”

“Go with Braeden where?”

“Wherever she’s going, I don’t want you to think that we’re holding you back. If you love her go with her, don’t let her get away.”

_I don’t love her I love you asshole._

Derek stares at the red Toyota in front of him for a second, giving his heart a moment to stop racing. He wants to kiss Stiles during times like this, where he lets his insecurities get the best of him.

“I don’t love her, but you knew that already.” Stiles actually splutters, like he’s been caught in the act and Derek can’t help but wonder for the fiftieth time that week how things would go down if he actually kissed him.

“How could I possibly know that?” His voice rises in pitch and Derek’s hand moves towards his leg without his permission, delicately wrapping around Stiles’ knee.

“It’s barely been a day since we made up, do we have to fight?” Everything feels slow and sticky, like he’s not really here but he’s the most present he’s ever been.

“When is a good time you suppose for us to fight?” Derek wants to laugh at the stilted way he asks the question, the way his body betrays him by relaxing into Derek’s touch.

“We can talk about everything tomorrow, when everyone goes out we can talk. I mean about everything, is my hand bothering you?” 

Stiles shakes his head silently, turning his reddening face towards the window.

 

Stiles doesn’t talk to him again for the whole night, but it’s not an angry silence. It’s a peaceful silence that he reserves for heavy thinking and sugar cookies. Lydia drops herself onto Derek’s lap with a mug in her hand, slurping loudly and smiling coyly.

“You guys managed to look very domesticated earlier.” She whispers, eyeing the kitchen doorway.

“We didn’t fight, we finally agreed to talk.”

“Oh you talk? Did you mean actual words or you know?”

“Actual words, asshole.” She giggles and holds her cup to her face, watching Stiles scramble into the living room to ask Allison where the lemons were. When he goes back into the kitchen, blush crawling up his neck and eyes purposely avoiding where Derek was sitting, Lydia laughs quietly into her cup.

“I can’t wait.”

“For what?”

“All the hot gay sex.” 

Her laugh covers the loud thud she makes hitting the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd i just wanted to get this up 
> 
> also this is a filler. it's cutesy and fluffy and nonsensical whatever sue me.
> 
> i love yall, it's lit!


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles is sitting in the living room, watching Alex run around while Alicia and Jamie continue sleeping. 

He’s been waiting for Derek to come over for about three hours and twenty three minutes.

He could pretend he’d done nothing wrong, pretend he was the only wronged party in all of this but he refused to be a liar. He keeps trying to convince himself that he has no reason to be nervous, but he knows that’s a lie. 

Last time they had a talk like this, Stiles went out and did something that nearly destroyed them both.

_“Stiles.” Derek was holding him in his bedroom, the window wide open letting in the cold air. He forgot that Stiles was human. So had Stiles. “I need to know, do you need me to give you time? Do you need me to back off? I don’t want you to feel like I need this relationship to still be by your side, I don’t.” He does and he’s lying, Stiles can tell by the way his arms tighten around his torso that the thought of letting go is terrifying to him._

_Stiles is living proof of what happens when you let go._

_He turns in Derek’s arms, his bare chest meeting Derek’s clothed one. He memorizes his heartbeat because who knows anymore. Who knows if he’ll be here in an hour. Derek’s arms get tighter around him and Stiles holds his breath, letting the little butterflies swarm before gathering his mind._

_“You’re all I have.” Comes from his dry throat and he can feel Derek’s relief as he shakes his head._

_“You have family, you have pack. In a few more days, you’ll have Jamie.” Stiles loves him, loves his optimism and his refusal to be the biggest thing in his life. He’d appreciate it more if he wasn’t barren inside. A leaf blows through the window and Stiles realizes that he’s cold and half standing in the middle of Derek’s room in a pair of underwear. He can’t remember the episode he just had, or the lies he just screamed but he knows that his knees are bleeding._

_“You’re all I want. I don’t want time.” If he was in his right mind he would say the complete opposite, he would tell Derek to run and hide, to come back when Stiles was complete again. But he wasn’t and Derek was selfish, refused to let go even though all of his instincts told him to._

_Stiles kisses him and shivers right after, if he could feel the cold it meant he was alive._

Stiles was tired of pretending like he was the only one hurting, he was tired of being too big to apologize. He was tired of pretending he was happy without Derek on his side . He gets up, shaking out his restless bones and puts Alex in his walker, pushing it around the living room reciting recipes in his mind. He’s about to make his 30th lap around the room by the time Derek stumbles in, in a tank top and sweatpants. His hair wet and sticking to his forehead. 

Which is totally unfair, no one should look that good when they’re going to have an argument with their ex.

“Am I late?” He asks, grinning. It doesn’t reach his eyes but it’s not Stiles’ place to comment on that.

“No, I’m just insanely early.” Derek laughs and sits down in the armchair, looking at Stiles but not quite.

“So what was yesterday afternoon about?” He looks like he doesn’t really want to know but is willing to listen. He’s sitting at the edge of the couch, hands on his knees and his back straight as an arrow like he’s about to spring up at any time.

“Uh... “ It feels stupid to talk about now that he has permission to, but he sucks in a deep breath and lets go of all inhibitions. “You, you’re the most confusing person I’ve ever met. You treat my child like she’s your kid and it’s great but, I’m scared you’re going to leave and she’s going to feel like she has two absentee parents. I know why Braeden was actually here, I know you hired her but I don’t know nor want to know how you two got together. I don’t know why you’d get with her after you talk all this shit about ‘loving and waiting’ for me, I don’t understand why you do something like that when you knew it would hurt me and you knew I was fra- not okay.” 

“I don’t understand why you told me you could deal with the relationship and then that same fucking night you go and sleep with someone from a fucking bar. In my house. Don’t give me any bullshit about you hurting because of me, you’re not the only fucking _fragile_ one. I could never compare my pain to the pain you felt when they took Jamie and remember I was willing to let you grieve in peace, but you made that promise to me and you broke that promise.” Derek’s anger leaves him flushed and shaking, off the couch and on the opposite side of the room he looks like a deer running from a hunter.

“So, let me get this straight.” Stiles trying to keep his voice down, quiet and calm. One of them need to handle this like an adult, Stiles was sure it wasn’t him. “You started dating Braeden because I had a one night stand?”

“Let me straighten this out for you. Me and Braeden are just f- having sex… I don’t know why you’ve assumed we’re dating when I’ve never said anything of the sort. People, adults, can have sexual non binding relationships. I started having sex with Braeden almost an entire year after we broke up. You cheated on me and had the audacity to do it in my apartment, you had sex with another man two doors down from where I was sleeping.” Stiles hates the hot, shameful tears making their way down his face. Derek is shaking harder now, eyes brimming with unshed tears and when Stiles woke up this morning he never guessed that two grown men would be crying in his room and one of them would be him.

“I…” Pitiful. Derek waits while Stiles chokes on his words, he waits and waits like he always has until Stiles’ shakes his head. Derek nods his, like he just received an answer and his entire demeanor changes.

“Yeah. I’m really glad we got to talk this out. It made me realize how much I actually fucking hate you, how fucking _fragile_ I feel because of you.” The venom burns through Stiles’ gut, hollowing him out and putting shame and regret in place of his organs. He watches Derek cross the living room, as far away from him as he can possibly get, before he walks out the door. It slams the way it normally does, but it means something entirely different now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey, feedback is appreciated.
> 
> told you guys it'd be explained.
> 
> :)


	8. Chapter 8

Werewolves can't get drunk, can't get high, can't be physically incapacitated in any way unless they're laced with mistletoe. 

He’s pretty sure Jack Daniel’s doesn't make a special flavor for Wolves. 

Doesn't stop Derek from trying his hardest. 

After his tenth shot, Kira stops him to give warning of Stiles’ arrival. 

“I don't fucking care.” He recently found out that if he had three shots in a row he could become slightly inebriated and pretend to forget how badly it stung to think of Stiles. Kira frowns at him, leaning over the bar to push his hair off his forehead. 

“If you're gonna stay please go sit at a table. You're both my friends and I don't want anyone feeling extremely uncomfortable.”

“He wasn't uncomfortable under that dude he was fucking.” 

“And you weren't uncomfortable under Braeden so shut the fuck up and go to the last booth.” Kira looks almost embarrassed, like she didn't mean to tarnish her innocence by cursing. She spins on her heel, curls and fur balls chasing her and escorts him to the table, leaving a bottle of Jack Daniels and flicking his ear. The booth is facing the back wall but Derek still hears when Stiles comes in, the mismatched beats of his heart and the obnoxious tone he uses to address patrons, the stupid half assed laugh he only gives to Kira. He’s wearing one of the colognes Derek left at his house, Derek takes another shot to get burn the smell out his throat. 

If he leaves right now tonight won't be a total fucking disaster. But Derek loves to break his own heart. 

Every time Stiles flirts with a customer or laughs at a joke the cook makes, Derek chugs straight from the bottle. 

Of course he could just leave. 

Of course he won't. 

Derek puts a hand up towards the bar, waving a sloppy finger. 

Stiles giggles, Derek chugs. 

Derek doesn't register the fact that someone is in front of him until he inhales and smells some of his own Bespoke cologne mingling with pure energy and wet grass.

“Why are you here?” Stiles’ voice is tight and smells of alcohol. His shirt is tight, hugging him tightly around the shoulders and riding up every time he breathes, making him look like a fucking obscene porn star. 

“I'm having a fucking drink?” Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up, he’s giving Derek the same look he gives Jamie when she doesn’t want to pick up her toys and it’s driving him crazy. 

“What the fuck ever. What do you want?” 

You. To not have to hate you. 

“Another bottle of Jack and a clean glass.” 

“Are you driving home?”

“Fuck off, Stiles.” Stiles turns bright red, looking towards the bar quickly as he slides into the booth. 

“Let's make a deal, ok? Stay the fuck away from me and I'll stay the fuck away from you, ok? Distance makes it easier for you to _hate_ me.” He’s seething and Derek knows he shouldn't want to kiss the dip between his brows, he _is_ the one who hates him. 

“I don't want to hate you.” The alcohol burns through his stomach and Stiles just watches him with saucers for eyes, Derek just wants it to be over. 

A glass breaks behind them, followed by a shout and a laugh. Derek hears a soothing murmur, probably from someone who loves the culprit. Derek wants that, with someone who can't handle it. Stiles starts to say something but Derek shakes his head, finishing his last shot before dropping $200 on the table. 

“I'm sick of this hot and cold, I’m sick of you wanting to fix things one moment and not caring the next. I'm sick of trying to make something up to you when I wasn't the one who fucked up and I’m sick of you not trying when it was your fault. I'm fucking tired of pretending like I don't love you with all my fucking heart and pretending that I’m okay with hating you. You’re right I should just stay away, and I will I promise. I’ll make it as if I never existed. Just don't look for me okay, cause if you come looking for me I won't be strong enough to stay away. I'm sorry that all of this happened.” Derek watches the tears chase after each other on Stiles’ face, allowing his heart to snap into tiny pieces before heading out the bar without another word. 

His chest is heavy when he gets to his own apartment. The cold seeping into his bones as he sheds his jacket and boots. He lets out a quiet sob, just in case someone followed him back. 

Every time he gets the courage to leave Stiles alone, four million reasons why he shouldn't pop up. At the moment all four million of them are screaming at him as he crawls into bed, playing the grief stricken look on Stiles’ face as he left over and over again. 

He doesn't feel guilty. Or slighted. He feels like he tried his best, even after Stiles tore his entire being out of his chest. 

He continued to let Stiles tear him apart, dig in and pull apart until he was full. 

Derek doesn't know how he’s going to live without feeling overwhelmed by warm brown eyes and selfish nimble fingers. 

He knows he’s going to try his best to though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyello, I'll be posting chapter 9 later on today when it's not ... 4AM. 
> 
> Also I know I haven't had a consistent writing schedule, believe it or not I am going to finish this. Just not as fast as some people may want it. Some chapters no matter how short are hard to write. Just give me time. I love you guys and I love hearing feedback from you guys.


	9. Chapter 9

It's been 3 months since Stiles has seen Derek, 2 since he received a box with his and Jamie’s things in it from an oddly sympathetic Caleb. 

After that it seems like they all take shifts staying with him. Ashley on Monday, Caleb on Tuesday, Zyra on Wednesday, Scott on Thursday and Isaac on weekends and nights. 

He usually prides himself on how loyal his pack is, but at the moment he’s ready to scream. 

“How's he doing?” He mumbles around several Bobby pins, tightening his thighs to keep Jamie in place. 

“Alex is fine, has a bit of a cold but it should be over soon.” Ashley doesn't look up from her textbook and Stiles knows that's all he’s getting from her. 

It fucking _burns_ not having Derek haphazardly sprawled across his couch, Stiles trapped under his foot at the end. Or in the kitchen making something that looks extremely disgusting but taste better than anything in the world.

It’d help if he could stop thinking about how broken Derek looked leaving the bar, how he folded in on himself and walked as fast as possible to make himself as unnoticeable as he could. 

Or the 25 voicemails from blocked numbers, all of them Derek crying pitifully into the speaker. Words slurring slightly and Stiles’ name being chanted for a large portion of the message. 

_“Stiles, Stiles. Stiles, Stiles? Hello? StilesbeautifulStileStilesstiiiilllesss. I know I said I’d stop but L-LLydiacame and she smelt just like you. Stiles? ... I miss your eyes. I wonder if Jamie's will stay blue forever. That'd be sad. Ugh, I love you baby.”_

The day after Derek’s phone was disconnected and Lydia stopped coming home on Wednesdays. 

Stiles can't concentrate, messing up simple orders, throwing in the whites with the coloreds. His eyes are rimmed red constantly, though he never seemed to admit he was crying even when Lydia is constantly catching. He knew he didn’t have a reason to cry, this was his fault in the first place, but every time his head landed on his pillow he couldn’t stop the tears from overwhelming him.

Stiles honestly didn’t believe he would fall apart without Derek’s soothing hands aimlessly wandering down his back after work or his booming laugh every time Stiles’ said something remotely funny. 

He hates how he can't really breathe without him. 

Stiles saved every message he’s gotten at 3AM, he sleeps with his volume on high so he doesn't miss another phone call. But they've stopped coming with the last one and Stiles hates how needy he feels without them. 

 

“Do you wanna go to the movies with us?” He asks Isaac, standing behind him as he mashes bananas into a bowl. 

“Can't I'm going to De-” He pauses like he's tasting the air, the back of his neck turning a bright red. Stiles’ chest tighten up, his heart thudding erratically at the mention of Derek’s name. 

“Please. Just tell me how he is.” Isaac shakes his head and Stiles growls, kicking the counter behind him. Jamie looks up at him from her coloring book and the shame that floods his gut makes him woozy. “I'm fucking worried sick, I can hardly sleep. I just need to know if he's fucking breathing on his own, Isaac.” 

Isaac continues mashing foods together, shaking his head before dropping the bowl down in front of Jamie and walking out the kitchen. Stiles follows him, running a nervous hand through his hair. 

“Did he like make you swear to an oath, is it like a pack thing? Why did he change his number? Isaac, please man. I never beg but I'm… I’m just...so worried, this is the longest I've gone in two years without talking about him. I'm like waking up at 4AM wondering if he drank enough water throughout the day or if he's eaten, I can't take this anymore. I'm driving myself crazy.” He lets himself crumple onto the ground, resting his head against the wall and pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't know when he let this thing control him, when he let anyone besides his daughter bring him to his knees. He thinks he’s about to start panicking when Jamie walks over, mashed bananas smeared on her nose, and wraps her arms around his neck. 

“Daddy, S’okay. I cook dinner tonight. Bamburgers and flies.” She grins at him and Stiles’ heart flutters, almost stops beating because of how genuinely beautiful his daughter is. How she doesn’t seem to blame him for anything, even when he blames himself for everything. He plants a sloppy kiss on her forehead, pulling her into his arms as he stands. Isaac’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking like it physically pains him to be wearing a scarf. 

“Derek's not ok. He’s healthy and I’ll start making sure he drinks more water but he’s a fucking wreck, won’t stop fucking drinking. Barely leaves the house, hasn't written a piece in weeks. No offense or whatever, I think only reason you aren't as fucked as he is is because you have a little monster to take care of.”

“Hey!” Jamie cries, slapping Isaac's hands away from her nose. Her French braid manages to hit Stiles in the mouth and it smells like shampoo and lemons. 

“I’m gonna get going, he hasn't gotten out of bed yet I think.”

“Can you tell him that I miss him?” Stiles pushes stray hairs from Jamie's face and notices the new freckles sprinkling her forehead. 

“I can’t do that.”

“I know. But I do.”

 

Stiles starts going to the park with Jamie everyday, burying his thoughts in treasure hunts and pirate battles. Isaac’s right, though Stiles will never tell him to his face, Jamie does make it easier for him to breathe. Tiny hands grabbing at his wrists give him a reason to leave his bed. And the first three days of the week are easy, not good but not Derek suffocating. 

Thursday, Jamie skinned her knee and cried out for Derek. 

Friday, she refused to get out of bed until Stiles convinced her that he’d call him. 

“Look I know this is so fucking weird and terrible but uh could you please. Fuck. Jamie is missing the big guy. I figure she's having pack withdrawals? Is that even real? Anyways, could you bring her to see him?” He hates how tight his voice sounds, how desperate he feels. Caleb groans, pressing the phone to his chest. Stiles can’t help nearly killing himself just to hear Derek’s voice, his heart cracking when he hears nothing.

“I’ll come get her in a few, Zyra asked if you’re alright with her coming by.”

“Yeah, no that’s perfectly fine. She can come, I’ll get Jamie ready. Caleb?”

“Hm?”

“Tell him I said thank you.”

When Caleb walks in, Zyra flowing behind him, Stiles catches a whiff of Derek’s cologne and it makes him want to crawl away and hide. He ignores the tears welling in his eyes when Jamie asks why he isn’t going at the door, head cocked and curls tumbling down her face.

“Well, Zyra’s going to teach me how to do the light thing that Kira does. Wait, till you get back. It’s gonna be a light show in here.”

“Light show?”

“Boom!” He shouts, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling his face into her cheek. When they leave, he feels a little less alive, a little less real. 

Zyra’s in his fridge, pulling out bags of herbs she left from the week before, muttering to herself.

“You’re too pregnant to be bending let me do that.” He whines, shoving her softly and grabbing all of her ingredients out of the fridge.

“Mind me, you look like shit.”

“That’s like fucking an obligatory greeting amongst you guys.” Stiles scratches at the stubble growing on his jaw, he can’t remember the last time he actually shaved.

“Stiles, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not telling you to go to him but you guys need to clean up your act and fix this.” He straightens up off the counter, pushing his hair out his face. He hasn’t actually gotten a haircut since the last time he saw Derek.

“I’m taking this so bad. I fucking miss him so fucking much. I feel like the only reason I’m getting out of bed is for Jamie and once she starts school next week I just won’t have a reason not to stay in bed until she comes home.” 

“You guys have been broken up longer than you dated, it shouldn’t be this hard for you two to move on.” She turns the stove on, momentarily turning away from him.

“He was still mine up until 3 months ago. I can’t fucking explain it just..” She’s right, it shouldn’t be this hard and Stiles should feel better knowing Derek is just as bad as he is but it doesn’t. It makes him feel sick and anxious, knowing Derek is falling apart is making Stiles fall apart.

“Are you crying?”

“Are you making fun of me?” He runs the back of his hand across his face and laughs, letting Zyra pull him into her arms. 

“You want him back so bad you actually cried in front of me. This is life chan-” She groans, shoving Stiles into the fridge and throwing herself against the counter. Water drips from between her legs and she meets Stiles eyes with the same bewildered expression he’s sure he’s wearing. 

"Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not don before I went to work and chapter ten is coming soon I'm working hard to get it for you guys. 
> 
> Feedback? Wanna just tell me I suck? Leave a comment.


	10. Chapter 10

“Oh my god, what do I do? You didn’t bring your bag right? Oh god, Oh fucking god. Okay. Come on, which hospital is it? Dear me fuck.” His palms are sweating as he guides Zyra out the apartment, he's nearly falling as they enter the parking lot. 

“Mt. Sinai. I need you to text Derek then Caleb. You get me? Derek then Caleb, please.” She screams, eyes flashing red before throwing herself into the back seat. “Stop staring at me and fucking drive.”

“What's Derek’s name in your phone?” He asks staring at the multiple contact names that all go something like ‘The Art One’. “ You're a different breed of embarrassing.” He mutters, scrolling to the bottom and up again. 

“Stiles’.”

“Like Stiles or something of Stiles?”

“Jesus Christ. The oNLY STILES IN MY PHONE AH FUCK.” It might be a little shallow of him to be this excited over a contact name, but Stiles is taking what he can get. He waits for a red light, heart thudding in his ear as he sends the text.

“Okay I texted both of them, how are you doing do you need anything? Should I call the hospital?”

“Were you not there when Jamie was born? Yes, you call the fucking hospital.”

Stiles _wasn't_ there when Jamie was born, didn't even know Crystal was back in the country when Jamie was born. But he’s spent enough time being offended over things that people say when they're in pain. 

“Yeah, you're right I'm sorry.” The engine stutters and Zyra is screaming before Stiles even has time to react.

“Call an ambulance, now. Holy fuck, I need some drugs.” Stiles nods, pulling the car over to the side of the highway and mentally groaning as it shakes before shutting off, emitting a pitiful whining sound in the process. He dials 911, cringing slightly as he explains to the operator what’s happened.

“They should be here in ten minutes, do you want water?”

“When I fucking give birth I'm buying you a brand new car and tearing this one apart with my bare hands.” 

“Hhholy shit.” He laughs, running out the car to grab a bottle from the trunk. 

“Call a tow truck and call Derek to pick you up, please try to do it as fast as possible. I need you to be there when they come out.”

“I-I can't call Derek, you kn-.”

“I am fucking pushing a human out of my vagina, do you think I care whether you and Derek are getting along or not? Call him, now.”

Stiles stares at the phone is hand, momentarily letting the thrill of talking to Derek and actually seeing him shake him to the core.

When the phone rings, he swears his heart stops beating.

“Hello?” And Stiles sighs, feeling three months of stress and fear slide off his shoulders with a simple greeting.

“It’s Stiles. I’m sorry for doing this but my car broke down on the side of the van wyck and I need you to come pick me up while I wait for it to get towed.” The silence gives Stiles a chance to breathe, to work through the fact that he just spoke to the one person he’s dreamed of speaking to for months.

“What exit are you near?” He mumbles.

“Queens Boulevard.”

“Where’s Zy?”

 

“The ambulance is coming now.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

 

Derek comes an hour later, right before the tow truck driver leaves and Stiles zeros in on the guy’s eyebrows when he hears the familiar hum of the car. 

Derek actually gets out and Stiles watches his own car get dragged away, half of his body leaning towards Derek before he even reaches him. 

“You look worse than I do.” Derek jokes and his voice is so overwhelming, Stiles feels like he's been punched in the gut. When he finally meets his eyes he doesn't even care about everything that's happened, he just pulls Derek in by his jacket and buries his face in his shoulder. For once his heart stops jumping around and his mind stops yelling at him, for once he doesn't feel the need to run, for once he can breathe without giving himself a reason. 

Derek pulls away after a moment, rubbing his hand over his mouth like he can’t figure out what to do with Stiles.

“I’m sorry, I just mis-.”

“Why do we keep doing this?” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, Stiles hates himself for being the one who to tear him apart like that. Stiles stares at him, letting the taste of whatever’s about to happen next saddle him before it starts. “Why can’t we just be friends if you’re not interested in fixing this shit. Why do we need to go all or nothing?”

“I-I don’t know, Derek. I’m…” He watches the tears pool over onto Derek’s face, painting a pretty picture that leaves Stiles hollow. “I love you.”

“Stiles, I fucking know that. I spent three months _knowing_ that and still staying away, because you don’t fucking know what you want to do with _that_.”

“What do you want from me? I cannot go in the past and change what I did.”

“I don’t want you to. I don’t. I just want to know you feel some sort of fucking remorse. Forget it, this is not a good time we have to go, Zyra needs you there.”

“Who says I don’t feel remorse, Derek? I’m sorry I’m too fucking weak to be a better man, I’m sorry I never gave you the apology you deserved, I’m fucking sorry is that what you need? Two words to make you feel like I care?” Something looks like it breaks inside of Derek, pours out onto his face and Stiles thinks he’s about to get punched when Derek’s lips press softly to his. He doesn’t know how long he stands there by the side of the road, letting Derek kiss him. Doesn’t really know when he starts crying or when he starts kissing back, only knows that Derek’s whispering praises against his lips that he’s never deserved. When they break apart, Derek hugs him, smiling against his neck and the scene is so sweet a fresh wave of tears overwhelm him.

“That’s honestly all I wanted.” He whispers and Stiles feels like he’s in a fucking rom-com, laughing when Derek pulls away and wipes his face with the cheesiest smile in the world.

He wants to know if he’s got Derek back, if he’s going to get to wake up to Derek every morning again. 

 

“What’s this mean for us?” He sounds like a teenage boy going through his first break up and he can’t bring himself to care about anything other than how desperate he is to kiss Derek again.

“I don’t know, but we can figure that out after Zyra gives birth right?” Derek’s walking back around to his side of the car, smiling like he’s got a secret.

“Yeah.” Stiles slides into the passenger seat, silently praying that he is that secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years!!!! You know what's so funny, while i was in the process of this my actual best friend went into labor so you know that's cool!! 
> 
> By the way, I don't need the comments about you guys not wanting to read because of the cheating. I'm sorry if that sounds rude, but if that throws you off the story more power to ya you just don't need to try to make me feel bad about it.
> 
> i love this chapter by the way its so trashy n cute n things will start getting better soon..
> 
> maybe.


	11. Chapter 11

“I feel as if things always get better in a hospital for us before they get significantly worse.” Allison says, not looking up from her phone as Scott and Derek press kisses to her cheek.

“That’s weirdly accurate.” Stiles answers from his upside down position in the chair, swinging his foot in greeting when she finally looks up at him. Derek wishes he cared enough to see the shock in her face when she realized the two of them were sitting in the same room right next to each other, but he’s way too busy relearning every single detail of Stiles’ face. Besides, knowing her, the face she made was exactly like Scott’s but probably not as comical. Still, Stiles’ face breaks up into laughter, his eyes squinting close and his mouth dropping open like this is the funniest thing that’s happened all month and Derek thinks that it’s time to get him right side up. “Oh, you know Zyra’s fine. Just feeding off my energy to stay alive. That’s why we’re all here joined in this lobby, that’s why I can’t feel my right foot and that’s why Caleb is signing documents and getting fucking blood tests done to prove he’s actually the father which is ridiculous.”

And it is ridiculous that Caleb has to prove by shedding blood that his wife’s children are really his.

It’s not as medieval as it sounds but the way the hospital’s treating this whole thing is.

Stiles finally turns back upright, leaning his shoulder against Derek’s almost as if he was drawn to him, before sitting up straight and meeting Allison with a look that has Derek reaching out like he still has rights to parts of Stiles’ body. It’s ten times more painful when he remembers he’s the one who’s revoked those privileges from himself.

“Why are they giving him hell?”

“Because his genitalia don’t match his fucking gender and they’re being fucking shit eaters. They’re not letting him in the room so Isaac has to be in there and it’s not fucking right, it’s actually fucking illegal.” Stiles is jumping his leg so hard that it’s shaking Derek’s chair, unsettles Derek and makes his stomach curl with something ugly. Allison looks to him because Stiles isn’t actually answering the question and for some reason they all seem to think he’s the calm to Stiles’ storm.

Maybe he is and maybe that’s why not touching Stiles’ is driving him so crazy, he needs to be comforting his boy who is pure power and energy but can’t seem to find it in himself to reach over and push all those things that make Stiles Stiles back together the way he knows he can.

“There’s something going on with the baby, they need the father in there just in case something happens to her. Caleb isn’t the father according to the DNA test so they’re taking the next of kin which she listed as Isaac. A bunch of bullshit…”

“That I will have handled and sorted out pronto. Also we’re suing this fucking hospital for everything they’re worth.” Lydia strides in, hair creating a cloud of embers that make Derek feels ten times. Her green suit flowing around her as she kisses Allison, softly then a bit harder when she realizes that no one actually cares how much affection she shows to the love of her life. That no one is gonna hop out of a corner and pull Allison away from her because Lydia chose to love her. The whole scene makes Derek’s hand shoot out and land on Stiles’ knee like it belongs there, like every moment in his life was leading up to him touching Stiles. Wakes him up and makes him see clearly, wakes up every single one of his senses and puts him on top of the world, brings him back to the sloppy kiss on the side of the highway. Brings him back to two summers, when Jamie was a little smaller and his chest only ever felt like exploding when he was looking at Stiles dance around the kitchen to some awful Eagles song as he was mashing bananas and strawberries. The warm calloused hand that lands over his own, squeezing it softly brings back memories of October, when Stiles spent more time in Derek’s bed than his own and Derek thought that the worst thing that could happen to them had already happened. When Derek wasn’t trying to convince himself that he and Stiles were no good for each other, trying to convince himself that sorry doesn’t mean anything even if it’s all he’s wanted.

Except it does when it comes from Stiles and some tiny part in Derek’s mind keeps reminding him of that, keeps reminding him that Stiles doesn’t just speak to hear himself talk. He speaks with purpose, everything he does means something. Every pause, every breath, every flick of his tongue means something and he makes sure that Derek knows that. Makes sure that Derek knows when he laces his fingers through Derek’s, sweaty and cautious but firm like a promise, that Derek knows that he has a purpose.

He comes back to Lydia tying up her long hair, Allison holding the phone up to her ear like she’s a trained secretary and Caleb pacing in front of them looking like he’s ready to rip the walls down if he doesn’t get to his wife soon.

“Caleb, let’s get in there now. Allison go downstairs and lead the cops up here.” Caleb doesn’t even slow down his pacing, nearly rips the door off the hinges to get to Zyra. Allison walks back up with two burly cops, pointing to the door before throwing herself down next to Stiles with the biggest grin on her face. Derek isn’t even ready to hear what she’s about to say but turns to her when she wiggles her eyebrows anyway.

“I’m so glad we can be a little family again.” She says, eyes flicking from his and Stiles’ conjoined hands to his face. “Just like old times.” And Derek nods, not because they’re the same way they were before. They’ll never be that again, he’ll never be able to give himself to Stiles like that again. He nods because they are a little family again.

A little dysfunctional, a little broken but Derek doesn’t think he could ever really give this up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) i like this, it's a filler but i like it. A lil sad but...
> 
> AN: someone just informed me that things like this still do happen and it's fucking disgusting and I am so fucking sorry


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles and Caleb spent hours in the hospital room, whispering and laughing and looking out at the rest of the group with warm eyes that make Derek feel like combusting at the chest.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t let himself melt every time Stiles reached for him but the moment he fell into his lap, he wrapped his arms around Stiles’ thin waist like he never left.

Zyra had a child and Stiles is smiling at him like he can’t believe he exists.

It’s all too surreal.

 

A few hours later, Stiles and Derek leave so Boyd and Erica can come over. Stiles doesn’t grab his hand and Derek wants him to badly. So badly his hand twitches every time Stiles even shifts in the seat.

He laughs at the playlist he made on Derek’s phone two years ago, playing the first song and singing so bad that Derek has to pull over from laughing so hard.

“Derek, look, I know man. I’m an amazing singer but this…” Stiles waves his hand out to the dark field they’re stopped in front of, stupid smirk on his face like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Derek’s chest. “Is next level creepy, even for you.”

“That’s funny, coming from the person who can’t leave my house without stealing a cup.” He pulls back onto the road, dropping his hand in the dashboard and hoping, praying that Stiles is feeling brave tonight.

He knows he’s desperate. But he just can’t help himself. The past few months have been a blur, a colorless, emotionless shit storm. This is the first time in months that it doesn’t fucking hurt to smile, the first time in months that he can look in the mirror and not see Stiles staring back.

He let it all fall apart, every single piece of him fell to hell when he walked out of the bar. He let the betrayal take over him, the way he didn’t let it happen in February. He blamed himself for not being enough, for not trying hard enough to help Stiles, for allowing his own grief to swallowing his chest when Stiles needed him most. He’s pretty sure his friends had him on suicide watch for the first month, watching him drink himself half to death, taking the bottle with them when he finally passes out and hiding their whispers behind closed doors.

Derek doesn’t want to feel that helpless again but he can’t help but float behind Stiles like a sick puppy.

Stiles leads the way into the house, pulling out his n keys and opening the door like he owns every aspect of Derek’s life. 

 

They end up on the couch, Jamie asleep in Derek’s room and Derek wishes he could focus on the television but it seems like his body is programmed to tune in to every breath Stiles takes.

Derek feels like he’s on fire, like the world is burning and he’s the one who lit the fuse. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to start the conversation that he knows they both need to have. Doesn’t know if he’s gonna break his own heart tonight or not, but he just wants to get it over with so he can stop feeling like his chest is about to cave in and he’ll be left trying to rebuild himself.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” Stiles whispers, he has his knees tucked to his chest and he looks so small and vulnerable that Derek finds himself speechless for a second. Stiles doesn’t take his eyes off the T.V and even though Derek’s been preparing for this talk all night, it still hurts to get it out. He lets the words dance on his tongue for a second before spitting them out like they’re burning holes through his mouth.

“You can’t fix this.” And now he’s looking at the T.V and Stiles is looking at him and his tongue feels so thick it might explode.

“What do you mean we can’t?” He turns off the T.V and Derek’s glad because now he has no reason to avoid looking towards Stiles.

“I mean…” He angles his body towards Stiles, who looks like he’s trying to swallow himself whole. And it hurts to even look at him, to even think about not having him anymore. And Derek is so sick of burning himself alive just to do the right thing. “This isn’t something that you can throw a bandaid over and it’s suddenly done… This is something that… We need to rebuild because I don’t trust you and I can’t give myself to you again if I don’t know what you’re going to do next…”

“I know how you feel, I know and-.”

“No, Stiles you don’t.” Stiles blinks slowly and Derek doesn’t know what to do but he can’t stop talking. “You don’t know what it’s like, you don’t know how I feel. That’s one of the problems, you think you know and it’s just… you don’t and you don’t ever ask you just assume.”

“So tell me, tell me how you feel tell me.” Stiles scrambles closer and Derek moves away, because he can’t take all this attention thrown towards him. He chokes on his own breath for a minute and looks into Stiles’ warm brown eyes and can’t recall a time that he didn’t feel like swimming through oceans just to have Stiles smile at him. “Derek, _please_ tell me baby.” Stiles’ thumb swipes under his eye, gently like he just wanted to feel Derek under him.

It breaks something in him, and Derek hasn’t cried since his father died but he can’t stop it now.

“I love you but this relationship is ugly and toxic but I love you so much. You hurt me, you tore me down like I wasn’t anything to you. Like I didn’t mean a single thing to you and you have no idea how that felt, it seemed like you didn’t even care for a while. I can’t look at you sometimes without seeing you in bed with him, I can’t breathe sometimes when I think about how easy it must’ve been for you because you’re not as attached as I am. You make me feel like the biggest fucking mistake in the world and you treat me like I’m expendable, like you just know I’m going to be there and you can just treat me however you fucking feel and I’ll just stick around. Before that was true, I’d rip my heart out of my chest just to see you laugh. And I can’t do that anymore, before I would fucking let you walk all over me and I’d smile because you’d fucking let me sit next to you but I can’t do that to myself anymore. I love you, so much more than I ever thought I ever could but I can’t do that anymore. You want what we used to have and I can’t give that to you.” 

“It wasn’t easy, please believe me when I say that. Every…” Stiles runs his fingers through his hair and looks at Derek as if he’s making him commit treason. “Every fucking night, I thought about how badly I fucked up. How bad you were hurting and I knew, I knew you were hurt bad and I just didn’t do anything because I just… I’m selfish and I’m foolish and I’m immature, I know that about myself. I know that I treat you like shit and I’m so fucking sorry, you mean so much to me and I can’t seem to realize that you’re not gonna put up with it forever. I take you for granted. I do, I admit it. And I’m trying my best to change, but it’s going to be hard.”

“I hate to sound fucking selfish but it shouldn’t be that hard if you _really_ wanted to change.” Derek knows from personal experience, he went from having the emotional capacity of a rock to writing sonnets about the color of Stiles’ hair. “If you don’t want to change, I won’t force you. We can’t do this, I can’t baby sit you. You’re a grow-.”

“I will try with every fiber in my being. Just stop, _stop saying that_. Stop saying you can’t do this, stop making it seem like you don’t even want to try anymore.” Stiles whispers, wiping tears from Derek’s face like he doesn’t have any falling down his own cheeks. He’s shaking, staring at Derek like the next thing out of his mouth might break him into a million pieces. Derek thinks he might be right.

“I..” He doesn’t know how to answer. Doesn’t know what to say and he hates it because he had a plan, had months of preparation for this and he’s coming up empty. His original plan was to end it completely, to keep Stiles at arm’s length and go on with their lives because he couldn’t take it anymore. He knows how bad they are for each other, knows that for once he needs to put himself first. But he can’t now, looking at him, he just can’t. Because not once, not a single time during the three years they’ve known each other, not once has Derek’s heart stopped threatening to implode every time he laid eyes on Stiles and he’s not too sure he can’t let all of that go yet.

Derek is weak, he’s a weak selfish man. Not only is he damning himself, but he’s damning Stiles too.

“Come on, talk to me.” Stiles attempts a smile, his warm hands still holding Derek’s face. 

“We won’t ever be the same, ever again and I never want us to be. I’m not trying to end it, I want to try with you and I want us to actually fucking try.” 

Every light in the house goes on at the same time and Derek feels a shock of electricity where Stiles is holding his face. Stiles grins and it blows Derek away, because he hasn’t seen him this happy in so long Derek forgot that this boy, _his boy_ , was extremely contagious. 

He kisses him sweetly, urgently like if he doesn’t do it now he might never get to again. Their lips slide together smoothly and Derek feels whole, feels like he’s a new person and the same exact person at the same time. Stiles bites at his bottom lip flicking his tongue out to soothe it before pulling away, holding Derek’s face like he was some sort of precious artifact that could crumble at any time.

“I’m sorry about the lights.” Stiles mumbles, lips slick with spit and his pupils blown wide. A portrait of everything Derek holds dearly.

“I’m sorry about crying.” It makes Stiles laugh and straddle him, burying his face into Derek’s neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m going to try this time, I swear to you I will.” And Derek wishes that he knew it was true.

For now, he just hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >.>


	13. Chapter 13

Boundaries should be set and Derek knows this, knows that it’s detrimental to the whole “rebuild” period for them to settle into each other right away.

Doesn’t stop him from slamming Stiles up against the wall though.

Stiles’ hands are hot and heavy on his waistline, his lips pressing feather soft kisses against Derek’s jaw line, legs pulling Derek in so hard he’s afraid they’ll melt together.

It’s all no good, very bad, not much progress at all. Actually it’s a couple steps backwards and Derek thinks that if he pushes the idea in his head hard enough he’ll actually step away and put up the boundaries he so desperately needs.

But Stiles is moaning and chanting his name and Derek didn't know it was possible to feel like he could light up the empire state building, thinks he should come down from this before something no good, very bad happens.

“Derek?” Scott calls into the house, bringing Derek back to Earth, back to setting boundaries that the both of them need. Stiles legs drop at the same time Scott wanders into the kitchen and Derek shouldn't take pleasure in the bright red blush that spreads over Stiles’ face as Scott looks him over, he especially shouldn’t take pleasure in the fucked out look in his eyes as he tries to come back down. “Sorry for interrupting...Whatever the hell was going on in here.”

“What happened, Scott?” Derek asks, avoiding his eyes as he leans across Stiles to grab a mug. He catches the sharp intake of breath and the jolt in his heartbeat before he walks away.

“Zyra told me to come tell you that there was a shift in the energies around the city, was vague as hell about it but she told me not to call you at all.” Scott can’t stop flicking his eyes from Stiles’ swollen lips to Derek’s rumpled shirt. 

“What do you mean? What did she exactly say?” Derek sets his cup down abruptly, finally drawing Scott’s eyes to his own and pulling Stiles from his stupor.

“She said that the energy fields feel tainted, like someone with really old magic is around. Something about not being able to feel the energy fields too well because she’s too vulnerable.” Derek nods, flicks his eyes to Stiles who just shrugs.

“I don’t know anything about the city’s energy fields, I’ve never tapped into them.” He scratches his jaw and looks between the door and Scott, pulling out his phone before muttering a ‘I’ll find out though.’ that has Derek’s chest filling with a bunch of stupid adoration that has him rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

“What about you? You feel anything different going on?” He asks Scott through gritted teeth, watching Stiles’ face make about five different expressions before settling on confused and then terrified. “What is it, Stiles?” He doesn’t answer, shakes his head and lets his eyes flutter shut. Scott’s suddenly besides him, pulling Stiles off the counter and half carrying, half dragging him towards the the living room.

“Stiles! Do not let yourself go that far.” He hits Stiles’ chest once, lets out a frustrated groan as he shakes him. “Stiles, come back. Now.” The last word is growled out and Derek watches as Stiles comes to before he’s covered by the back of the couch.

“What the fuck just happened?” Derek shouts, watching Scott float around Stiles with an agitated expression.

“He has no fucking control over how much power he pours into a spell anymore, almost killed himself trying to protect the house.” He looks over at Stiles again and smiles softly, sits down on the edge of the couch and shakes his head. “What the fuck did you just do?”

“Oh you know, tapped into the city’s energy field, died five times. Normal Wednesday.” Scott laughs and Derek wishes he could see Stiles’ expression right now, see the open and relaxed look he tends to reserve for Scott and Scott alone.

“Normal Wednesday.” 

“Well, on your journey did you happen to find out what Zyra was talking about?” Derek crosses the room to sit in the arm chair, pretending like he isn't extremely calmed by the small smirk on Stiles’ face.

“It’s the witch. The one that waswi…” Derek watches his eyes flutter before he drops back against the couch arm.

“Great. Fantastic.” Derek rubs at his temples, watches Scott cover Stiles’ sleeping body, turning his jealousy into concern with what Stiles had said. “We have a powerful witch in our midst I'm guessing the one who had attacked with Crystal and both of our witches are impaired.”

“I don't think Stiles is that worried, he seemed fine when he was awake. I think he only panicked because he pushed himself too far but other than that…” Scott shrugs, folds himself onto the ground right below Stiles. “He seemed pretty relax.”

“What should we do?” Since Scott’s become part of his pack, Derek’s learned that trying to formulate a plan without including him usually ends badly for himself. He watches Scott quietly, glancing every so often at Stiles’ face as Scott rolls several options around in his head.

“Up our defenses for now, be more alert. I don't think we need to go hunting for another witch or mage to protect us right away. Stiles will be out for a couple hours, Zyra will be home tomorrow. If Stiles isn’t too worried I don't think we should be.” Derek nods, considers his options and finds that as usual Scott’s idea actually makes the most sense.

They're an hour into waiting for Stiles to wake up when Scott finally breaks his silence and asks Derek the question that's been brewing since he got here.

“So you and Stiles?” He coughs into his elbow, cheeks flushing red when Derek finally looks over at him.

“You’re a gossip now?” Derek jokes, watching Stiles kick out and narrowly miss Scott's face.

“No, nothing like that. It's just...you guys worried me a lot when you broke up. I was pretty sure I was gonna lose a friend, especially with the way you...you know.”

“The way I was drinking?” Scott grimaces, nods his head and looks at Stiles like he's got all the answers.

“You were consuming a lot of wolfsbane, it was almost lethal. I don't know if you remember but I had to sleep in your room one night just to make sure you didn't turn over and choke to death in your own vomit. You both cried over each other every single day for a month, he wouldn't eat for weeks, he lost control of his magic just a bunch of shit that was completely unhealthy for the both of you. I just want to know, is it happening again? And if it is, are you guys sure you're ready?”

Derek hates the honesty on Scott's face, the way he isn't blaming Derek for anything that's happened. Derek hates that he knows Scott doesn't only want what's best for Stiles but he wants to make sure that Derek's taken care of too.

Derek hates that he doesn't have an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BACK! 
> 
> I don't want to give any excuses, just know a lot happened, i lost motivation and interest in this story and I just needed a break from it.
> 
> I'll try to have the next chapter up in two weeks, I won't be taking another break until I finish this.

**Author's Note:**

> It's back!!!
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!
> 
> [Come Yell At Me.](http://divinekira.tumblr.com)


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